Everyone Cries
by Princess Skye Jewel
Summary: AU 2013; Diego and some of his classmates don't believe they can cry, but something proves them wrong.


**Everyone Cries**

**Summary: AU 2013; Diego and some of his classmates don't believe they can cry, but something proves them wrong.**

**A/N: We had a Values Formation Seminar a few days ago, and I had to say one thing: my head hurts from all that crying. Yeah, some parts made me cry. So, here is my fic based from my experiences. And, some touches of humor along the way, with some OCs based from my classmates' names.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything except my OCs. And just the story. **

**Prologue**

Everybody cries one way or another. Somebody just needs to explain that to the sixth-graders in Los Angeles.

Diego, always the gentleman and 'act-like-your-age' type, doesn't want to cry. He always tries to make others perceive him as 'weak' for unknown reasons—but he wouldn't cry for that.

A military officer's son, Enrique likes old-school fencing and can be a tyrant in group projects. And to keep his 'authority' intact, he never cries—at least, on the outside.

Of course, these are only two of those 'hard-hearted' children. Some other people don't wish to admit the fact they have a soft spot somewhere even if it's really deep.

* * *

One day of July, all the sixth graders received a letter: a letter for a recollection.

"A recollection?" Enrique scoffed, "I can't wait to see our classmates go crazy for this field trip."

"This isn't a field trip, Rique," Diego told him, "Father Felipe has set this up. It's religious."

"Don't try and lecture me, de la Vega," Enrique grumbled, his accent of a Spanish officer lingered in the air. "And it is Enrique."

Diego sighed. His classmate was harsh when provoked at the slightest bit and will gladly return it in a much more unforgiving way. Enrique acted like a person frozen—numb, unfeeling and void of emotion.

Leonar, who was often called Leona, was a politician's daughter. She always kept her hair in a bun, no matter what occasion it may be. She is somewhat rude but somehow likeable.

Her friend, Ana Maria, was a daughter of another well-known family. A spoiled brat, she doesn't seem to cry unless it was about not getting what she wanted. But, since she got everything she wanted, she would hardly let out a whimper unless it was Enrique giving orders to her in a group project.

* * *

On the day of the recollection, they were stuck in a van like packed sardines. Markus and Juan Jacobo were playing around in the nearly-cramped vehicle when Isabel climbed in and Markus' elbow hit her glasses hard—too hard.

"Ow!" she yelped. A little blood oozed from her wound. "Great, now I'm scar-face. I don't wanna know what Ana Maria will say!"

"Are you alright?" Diego asked her, wiping the blood off her glasses and wound with a tissue.

"I'm fine, Diego," the girl replied, but winced in pain. That was the worst accident she had that involved her glasses. She hated wearing the specs—they made her look damned too mature for her childlike personality.

And that was how the whole bunch of students on the van glared at Markus the whole trip.

* * *

When they arrived in the building, they raced to the hall. And upon choosing a seat, Enrique found himself right the very middle of the front row with Demetrio—the laughingstock in his class. Great. Just the way to humiliate himself in front of the speaker.

"Nice talking," he muttered. "I'm stuck with the class clown."

And, from the leftmost side of the room, he found Isabel and Leonar chuckling at him.

"Nice seating arrangement, Enrique," Leonar teased.

"Once the teacher gives us a group project on livestock raising, I shall assign you both to the most honorable task of cleaning the pig pen," Enrique hissed, his sarcasm lingering in the air.

Leonar and Isabel groaned. They would skin him alive up on the nearby stage if his mother wasn't there. Enrique Sanchez Monastario's mother was a teacher in one of their classes—which was the only reason the two girls never berate the boy so much.

A few minutes after the session started, everyone was in a fit of hysterics. Enrique and Demetrio were beet red—and the former scolding the latter.

"This boy is a rascal," the speaker chuckled, ruffling Enrique's hair. "I guess these two are lovers eh? Demetrio's favorite color is pink, I think!"

And with that, everyone giggled like babies. Most of the girls went pink, the boys red and the others purple.

"Then Enrique's favorite color is fuchsia!" The speaker roared in laughter. "He's much worse!"

Everyone fell on the floor, rolling in laughter. The girls went red, the boys went purple and the rest that weren't red or purple were desperate for air. All the teachers, who were able to conceal their laughter before, went red and laughed like there was no tomorrow.

Enrique's face went redder than ever and elbowed Demetrio. "If you weren't the class clown we would've been spared from the speaker's jokes!"

"It's so funny, Rique!" Demetrio laughed and also rolled on the floor, purple.

Enrique sighed. It was nine in the morning—meaning there would eight more hours of hell.

_To be continued…_

**A/N: So yes, completely OOC, but well, have you guys heard of a crackfic? This chapter is one. And, yes, this is based from my classmates to the core. So enjoy your characters simmering in a different personality stew XD**


End file.
